


where is your boy tonight?

by bunnyctzen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, Face-Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, a minor hint of subspace??, also he has tattoos, jaemin sexy.... jaemin sexy!!!!, jeno is a drummer for a really shitty band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyctzen/pseuds/bunnyctzen
Summary: “you’re staring, drummer boy.”
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 31
Kudos: 263





	where is your boy tonight?

**Author's Note:**

> an anon came into my cc with this incredibly sexy idea so i am blowing them a kiss!!!!
> 
> i spent a lot of time in the local metal scene growing up so maybe this is far more detailed than it needs 2 be but this is projection fic babey !!! i, in fact, started my own shitty band with the same name but the cute goth boy i met was far more of a dick than jeno lskgdkjl
> 
> mildly inspired by a conversation about how that time jeno said he can't get his ears pierced bc he's afraid he wouldn't know how 2 stop??? and then that candylab pic w the tattoo came out and my brain started . Racing,,,,,,
> 
> apologies again if this is an incoherent mess but such is brand !

jeno’s left sock is wet, and his pants reek of cheap beer.

he’s three weeks into a tour of the midwest with some reject metal band he found on craigslist that needed a new drummer, and it’s probably been a week since he’s seen a real shower—baby wipes and a can of dry shampoo genuinely feel like the only two things keeping him human at this point.

his neck aches (jeno has been sleeping on a pile of his own hoodies ever since their bassist stole his pillow), and his head is still pounding from the feedback that was leaking out of the speakers behind him at soundcheck.

they’re probably somewhere in iowa (or maybe wyoming) at a bar that looks just as grimy and worn down as the last six they played.

he’s a nobody—no one gives a flying fuck about _terror has fallen_ from salt lake city, or their drummer graham who’s on hiatus with a broken leg. they’re just the openers for a bigger name that needed someone to fill in their last stretch of dates on this side of the globe.

two of jeno’s three other bandmates can’t even say his name right.

thus, as he leans against the side of the stage with a too-warm can of pbr and keeps an eye on his drum set to make sure no one fucks with it, no one gives jeno a second glance. outside of the dude who spilled a drink all over him, anyway. 

their lead singer is flirting with a bartender, and the others are out back behind the bus for one last cigarette with the crew before the lights go down. jeno’s social feeds are _beyond_ dead, so he looks out into the sparsely gathered crowd to see if he can spot anything of interest.

he’s met with a lot of eyeliner, and a couple slayer shirts. a high concentration of ripped jeans and box-dyed black hair, and not a lot else.

there’s three minutes until their set starts, so he downs the rest of his beer, and sets it on the edge of the stage beside a near-toppling pile of empties.

whether anyone gives a shit or not (frequently the latter), it’s showtime.

about halfway through their set, drenched in sweat from exertion and stripped down to his thinnest tank top to deal with the heat, jeno accidentally breaks one of his sticks.

it’s no big deal, really—he keeps a couple extra in a cup beside his drums in case he goes too hard, and they’ve certainly come in handy before. he doubles up on his foot pedals to make up for the few missed beats, and he’s back to finishing the rest of the song.

surely, no one has noticed. even jeno doesn’t remember the name of this song; their bassist prints out their setlists, and he’s elected to call this one “green beans” after an inside joke before jeno’s time in the band.

distantly, he really only hopes he’s not in for a lawsuit in case the other half of his drum stick landed in someone’s eye, or something. he lives on a _tour bus_ , for god’s sake. hell if he has the money to settle something like that.

openers don’t get encores.

instead, they get their asses kicked off the stage so the headliners can do their thing, and they’re given free reign for the rest of the night—curfew is really only in the small hours of the morning when the buses pull out and head on to the next city.

the towel jeno dries his hair off with still reeks from the night before, but it feels like his skin is about to melt off by the time he heads backstage.

“yo, jay, are you gonna head out for a mcdonald’s run with us?”

the nickname makes things a little easier for his white as fuck bandmates, but it still sounds strange to jeno’s ears.

he shakes his head.

“nah, i’m gonna stay behind for another couple drinks. i’ll catch up with you around last call?”

“whatever, dude. you do you.”

it’s enough of a dismissal for jeno to confidently head back over to the bar—they don’t have a manager or anything, but their crew guy is a huge stickler for punctuality and he’s kind of a dick.

now that he doesn’t have to worry about his phone blowing up later for disappearing, finally, jeno’s night is his own.

it starts with another can of beer, served by the blonde that thomas was flirting with before their set. she’s certainly pretty, but she’s not jeno’s type.

in fact, said type is near impossible to find in a crowd full of hypermasculine metalhead dudes. jeno is pretty used to the fact that his hookups on the road are few and far between; there isn’t a huge overlap between the queer community and anyone who would actually pay to see one of their shows.

there’s five more likes and a new comment on the most recent post he made on the band’s instagram, so he busies himself with tending to those as he sips his drink.

maybe a thirst trap was low hanging fruit for validation, but he’ll take what he can get in times of drought—it could very well be another few months before he meets another cute boy he can follow home for the night.

jeno pushes his hair out of his eyes again, and starts to type out his reply.

“ _please_ tell me you have better taste in drinks than that.”

in jeno’s peripheral, he sees a hand slide across the bar in front of him. a couple seconds go by, and no one responds to the voice.

he looks up.

“let me buy your next one?”

jeno raises an eyebrow.

“are you a beer connoisseur or something?”

shining eyes. sharp teeth. blue hair.

an airy laugh.

“more of a whiskey sour guy myself. i _do_ know a good thing when i see it, though.”

jeno snorts in disbelief.

is he actually being flirted with?

“is that so?”

“mm,” the stranger smiles. 

“jaemin. i saw your set earlier,” he introduces, taking a step closer to jeno.

“sorry for your loss,” jeno jokes dryly.

jaemin giggles.

“i’m uh, jeno. i’m only the replacement drummer. the old one was probably better.”

“really? you sure as hell looked like you knew what you were doing up there to me.”

it’s a comment jeno isn’t sure he knows how to react to; his face feels a little warm.

jaemin pulls something out of his pocket, and offers it to jeno. 

the other half of his drumstick.

immediately, jeno’s mood shifts.

“shit, are you okay? it didn’t hit you or anything, right?”

this seems to amuse jaemin—he’s laughing again, and shaking his head.

“i’m fine! my friend caught it, actually. i kind of just wanted an excuse to come talk to you.”

jaemin doesn’t really look like a member of the scene’s normal crowd. his hair is a little too perfect, and a light coat of gold shimmer frames his bright eyes. his leather jacket is a fashion choice, rather than one of function.

in fact, just by looking at him, it’s hard to place why he’s here at all.

“you’re staring, drummer boy.”

jeno’s ears burn.

he averts his eyes, and clears his throat.

boldly, jaemin reaches over to tilt jeno’s chin back up toward him.

“hey, i never said that was a bad thing.”

well, fuck.

he’s in it now.

“see something you like?” jaemin prods.

it’d be awfully hard to deny it.

still, jeno can be cheeky. this is a two way street.

“haven’t decided yet, actually.”

“oh?”

“mm. think i still need a little more time to be sure. you said you’re grabbing my next drink, right?” 

this time, it’s jeno that moves in a little closer.

closer than strangers have any business being.

“sure you’re still feeling thirsty enough to wait that long?”

“betting it’ll be worth the wait.”

jeno usually doesn’t drink hard liquor.

beer is pretty inexpensive, and he has to drink a hell of a lot more of it to get as drunk as he feels after a few shots. it certainly doesn’t _taste_ as good as all the mixed drinks he’s been indulging in tonight, but he’s due for a trip to the laundromat, and he’s between paychecks. he can’t really afford that luxury. 

jaemin seems to have no trouble covering the bill.

“why all the tattoos? gave up on being buried in a nice korean christian cemetery?”

jeno snorts. it’s a conversation (well, rather a one-sided one) he often has with his mother, and it’s a specific kind of hell he supposes he and jaemin have shared.

“i think they sold my plot when i said i didn’t wanna go to college anyway.”

the two are far closer now—in fact, jaemin is half on jeno’s lap at this point as he runs his fingers along the skin of jeno’s arm. 

“they’re pretty, you know. really well done.”

“you’re a tattoo enthusiast?”

“boy enthusiast. i’m somewhat of an expert.” jaemin corrects cheekily.

“and in your expert opinion?”

“ _very_ hot.”

the words are breathed directly onto jeno’s neck; the room around them almost feels as hot as it did when he first got off stage.

jaemin’s hand creeps down jeno’s stomach, and rests just above his waistband. he sticks his fingers into one of jeno’s belt loops, and tugs it toward him.

“i think i’ve done enough waiting.” this time, he whispers in jeno’s ear.

a chill rushes down jeno’s spine.

the good kind.

jeno can admit that he’s pretty pliant right about now—through added inebriation and the absolute drug jaemin has become for him, he’s fairly ready to be molded into any shape jaemin wants him in.

after jaemin settles their tab, he drags jeno behind him into the venue’s bathroom.

the stalls are covered in so many posters and stickers that they’re indistinguishable, and sharpie marker phone numbers are immortalized in every corner.

these, of course, are details jeno only has a moment to take in before jaemin crowds his space and becomes his entire world.

after he locks the stall, he pulls jeno forward by the sorry excuse that his tank top is, and nips at jeno’s bottom lip. he tugs it a little, snug between his teeth.

“i think you deserve a treat.”

the world feels a little hazier.

“a treat?”

“mm, a treat. you worked _so_ hard tonight, jeno.”

he breathes in sharply, and swallows in anticipation.

jaemin is otherworldly.

he holds all the power in the universe when he slips a hand under the front of jeno’s shirt to tease at his skin. when he hooks his fingers just under the top of jeno’s jeans, and pulls them down an inch.

“though i’ll be honest, i’m thinking that maybe _you’re_ the treat. you’re something special, drummer boy.”

all jeno can do is slowly nod.

anything jaemin says goes.

“i’d love just a little taste. you’d let me do that for you, right?”

jeno nods more enthusiastically, this time.

it seems to be enough.

jaemin runs a hand up and down the inside of jeno’s thigh, right on the side he’s stuffed himself in today. up and down, barely a finger’s graze from where jeno wants him. pressing his fingers against the seam of jeno’s thigh, and dragging them back down.

finally, he brushes over the bulge of jeno’s cock, and forms a more solid grip.

jeno’s entire body twitches in reaction.

“ah, _definitely_ a treat.”

he didn’t enter the bathroom entirely flaccid, but this interaction has only pushed jeno further. these jeans are _so_ fucking tight.

jaemin works on undoing them, and jeno actively tries not to astrally ascend.

he’s enchanted.

 _fuck_ , he’s enchanted. jaemin has a spell on him so powerful that jeno couldn’t dream of escaping it.

his jeans end up halfway down his thighs, and jaemin sinks down to his knees.

runs a loose grip up and down jeno’s length, dry, just to get a feel for it.

jeno leans his full weight on the stall behind him, already not entirely sure he’ll be able to support himself through the duration of this whole event.

jaemin leaves wet kisses all up the side of jeno’s cock, and he looks like an absolute dream doing it. jeno wouldn’t dream of closing his eyes for this—he’s unsure he’ll ever see anything better in his life.

finally, once jaemin decides he’s had enough fun driving jeno up the wall, he lowers his mouth down jeno’s length, and takes him.

even the first proper touch has jeno keening in his throat; this isn’t fair. how could he have prepared for any of this? how could he have dreamt it?

jaemin’s tongue is absolute _sin_ as it slides along the underside of jeno’s length, inviting him into a delightfully wet and hot place. it’s as relieving as it is stressful for jeno’s cock to finally be getting the attention it deserves—he’s quick to buy that jaemin _must_ be a boy expert for how well he performs with a dick in his mouth.

he grabs jeno by the wrist to place his hand at the back of his head, and squeezes his fingers over jeno’s own to have him grip his hair.

 _fuck_.

he wants jeno to pull it.

who could no to something like that?

jeno tightens his grip, and pulls.

jaemin bobs his head down in the opposite direction, and raises the tension.

ever so slightly, jeno buried halfway inside his mouth, jaemin moans. 

momentarily, jeno thinks his soul leaves his fucking body.

he tests it again—this time, he yanks jaemin back a little harder, then jaemin presses forward again.

two more times.

 _christ_ , jaemin wants jeno to facefuck him.

so he does.

jeno pulls jaemin back, and thrusts into his mouth; shallowly at first, of course.

jaemin pulls off.

“is that all you’ve got?”

oh boy.

jeno’s a goner.

this time, once jaemin has caught his breath and shimmied back down jeno’s cock, he fucks into his mouth a little deeper.

he has jaemin’s head pulled back enough that he’s a little arched where he kneels, and finally, he sets loose.

jaemin takes it like a dream.

every minute or so, he pulls off to breathe. sometimes he tongues at jeno’s balls instead, and sucks on them (albeit lighter than how he attacks his main task), and jeno swears there’s a chance me might black out in this very stall.

he takes one more round of jeno having his way with his mouth before jaemin pulls off again and sits back on his calves.

“can i—” he pants, still having trouble catching his breath. “take you home?”

“…right now?”

jaemin nods.

“but—”

“right now.” jaemin grabs one of jeno’s hands to steady himself, and he stands up on wobbly knees. this time, when he takes hold of jeno’s cock once more, he’s stuffing it back into jeno’s pants for him, and tugging his jeans back up.

“unless you _don’t_ want to come home with me.”

jeno shakes his head vigorously.

“is that a no?”

“shit, no—i mean, i meant… yes. fuck. yes i want to go home with you.”

jaemin wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and smirks.

“good boy.”

there’s a chance jeno accidentally made eye contact with their bassist from across the bar on the way out, being tugged along by jaemin, but that’s definitely a problem for future jeno to deal with.

personally, he thinks he’s been through his own fair share of hell when it comes to his bandmates bringing girls back to the bus.

the thing has shocks.

not only do they hear it, but they all _feel_ it.

needless to say, jeno is entitled to all the dick he wants for a night. he’s earned it.

jaemin either lives two blocks or fifteen minutes from the venue—it’s hard to tell when jeno is _this_ hard, and still very drunk.

they make do.

in fact, jeno barely processes what jaemin’s apartment looks like before he’s being pushed into his bedroom, and taken to bed.

jaemin straddles him, and sucks down jeno’s neck.

“i wanna fuck you.”

it feels like jeno just got the wind knocked out of him.

he obviously expected that, right? that’s clearly what this was about from the start. he still doesn’t feel any more prepared for it upon hearing it, in any case.

“the second i saw you walk out on _stage_ i wanted to fuck you. watching your arms work while you drummed. seeing you sweat. _god_ , i wanted you.”

“you got me.”

“mm. i got you. the question is, what do i do with you now?”

jeno doesn’t feel confident enough in his ability to provide a complex answer.

he runs fingers across jeno’s cheek, and takes hold of his jaw. turns jeno’s head to the left, then the right.

“you’re really something, drummer boy. you know that?”

it’s hard to make eye contact, yet jeno feels like it’d be a sin to look anywhere else.

“is that what you want, jeno? am _i_ what you want?”

jeno nods quickly.

“say it.”

“ _please_ fuck me, jaemin.” jeno whines, voice barely above a breath. “please.”

“it’d be a _crime_ to say no to an offer like that, don’t you think?”

jaemin leans back onto jeno’s thighs, and takes off his shirt. when he returns, he helps jeno out of his. next, for the second time, he undoes jeno’s jeans, and tugs them back down his legs.

further this time. they’re coming all the way off.

“god, of _course_ you’re fucking ripped. what the fuck, jeno?”

“drummer?” he offers.

“is it really _that_ physical?”

jeno nods.

“an absolute tragedy i can’t keep you around longer, then.”

he wholeheartedly agrees with jaemin. their time is fleeting.

honestly, it’s not like jeno really has a home to go back to. he’s been couch surfing in long stretches between gigs—crashing on thomas’ futon, and watching his girlfriend become his ex-girlfriend and then girlfriend and then ex again. there isn’t a whole lot for him back in salt lake city, but he’s not really meant for settling down either.

jeno makes money on the move, and jaemin is stagnant.

they have tonight.

he makes quick work of finding some lube and a condom, then finally, jaemin is back to rid himself of his own nearly painted on jeans.

jeno isn’t staring.

he’s looking respectfully.

jaemin only stands at half mast, but jeno swears he can already feel the ride he’s in for.

there isn’t really a whole lot of room to finger oneself in the bunk of a tour bus. it’s hard to even jack off in peace, let alone shove a couple fingers up his ass and ride it out in the middle of the night.

he’s a little out of practice.

it seems to be something jaemin intuits, though. he’s gentle and thorough in the way he preps jeno—goes the extra mile with a little more lube, and everything. the full three-finger stretch.

really, jaemin is extremely calculated and confident in everything he does. he moves like he has a plan, and jeno is more than happy to play along. he’ll be a pretty little marionette in jaemin’s fingers any day, if it means he can luck out enough to be close to him.

he has a feeling jaemin could get anyone to do anything he wanted for him. that the entire world is wrapped around his finger, and he knows just which strings to pull.

jeno finds it hard to care that he ends up with most of his face pressed into jaemin’s pillow when he’s manhandled and pressed down. jaemin lifts him up enough to get him to change sides, though. left side up.

“you’ve got the prettiest little mole here, you know. i’ve never seen anything like it before.”

of course jeno knows, but he’d hear it again from jaemin a thousand times like it was the first he’d ever learned of it.

jeno loses all the breath in his lungs again once jaemin finally pushes into him, and settles his weight onto the hand he has pressed into the small of jeno’s back.

he curses. jeno moans.

jaemin gives jeno lots of time to adjust around him once he bottoms out, and once jeno gives him the go-ahead, he’s careful in the way he moves. attentive.

“more.” the pillow catches most of jeno’s voice, but jaemin would never miss it.

behind jeno, he adjusts his position a little, and finally starts to _truly_ fuck him.

it’s hard to say if jeno really even had time to recover from the bathroom stall incident, because his entire body feels alight in pleasure when jaemin pounds into him. he tries to help out a little, and arch his back a little better to get the position right, but aside from that and keeping himself up on his knees, jeno is fucked brainless. it’s really all he can do.

jaemin shifts his weight again, so he’s bearing it on his other arm, and brings his fingers up to jeno’s mouth. he opens for them almost automatically as soon as they press against his lips, and takes them in. runs his tongue along them, and sucks.

he’s probably getting jaemin’s pillow wet with drool, since his mouth is unable to fully close around jaemin’s digits, but jaemin certainly doesn’t mind.

he fucks jeno so hard that he can almost feel it in his throat, and jeno thinks he might be able to feel tears leaking from his own eyes.

it’s absolute ecstasy.

there’s no secret handshake for finding jeno’s prostate, or anything. no magic moment. jaemin’s _been_ brushing up against it, and prodding at it, but it’s only after a while that it starts to _really_ affect him.

jeno’s entire body is absolutely alight, and that all of his nerve endings are sparking like flares—he’s lost all sense of his own volume, and he’s really only vaguely aware of the room around him.

he’s so full of jaemin that it feels like it should never be any other way. like this is the absolute best life will ever get for him. he’s reached fucking enlightenment, and he thinks it comes in the form of jaemin’s cock.

jeno at least attempts to warn jaemin when he’s close, but it’s hard to tell if it changes anything. he still sees stars behind his eyes when he closes them, and he’s out of breath like he’s halfway through running a marathon.

the world fucking ends when he finally comes all over jaemin’s sheets, and his legs give out under him. it’s like his brain breaks completely, and he’s floating. there’s clouds all around him.

jaemin still fucks him for at least a small while longer until he chases his own end, and finally collapses on his bed beside jeno.

things are quiet for a bit.

it’s just the two of them struggling to catch their breath, and the buzzing of jaemin’s air conditioner.

even as jeno starts to come back to himself, it’s still hard to break that bubble of silence.

of course, jaemin takes it into his own hands.

jaemin has a plan.

“jeno, are you with me? are you here?”

there’s still a bit of a delay in jeno’s brain before he nods, but he feels a bit more grounded with every passing minute. he lets jaemin guide him as he cleans the two of them up—careful hands, gentle touch. 

he pulls a blanket over them, and runs soft fingers along the back of jeno’s hand.

“do you know where you are right now?”

the fog clears a little more.

“wyoming?”

“iowa, actually.”

jeno snorts.

“even our lead singer didn’t know that.”

“god, band dudes are a mess. even the gay ones.”

they share another laugh for a moment longer, and then things settle again.

ah.

band.

“shit, do you know what time it is?”

jaemin’s brow furrows.

he reaches across jeno to grab his phone from his nightstand, and hands it to him.

it’s late enough now that jeno should probably start seriously considering how to get back to the venue in enough time to stop himself from getting in shit.

he sees his notifications second, though.

“oh. i guess we’re leaving in the morning, actually. apparently the sound tech guys are waiting on a spare part, or something.”

“do you want to stay the night?”

the question catches jeno a little off guard. it shouldn’t, considering the fact that jaemin has even gone out of his way to be thorough with aftercare, but it still feels a little wrong.

they’re not supposed to have more than tonight.

“for real?”

“obviously. do you really think i’m gonna kick you out of my bed and send you back to sleep in a bus?”

“i sleep in a bus every night.”

jaemin rolls his eyes.

“not tonight you don’t. take the break—you deserve it.”

jeno finds himself stumped for rebuttal once again. this is literally unlike any other hookup he’s had.

“also… maybe i just don’t want you to leave yet. if you’re not staying for you, at least stay for me.”

huh.

well, shit.

mutual attachment is probably the worst thing jeno could be getting himself acquainted with, but he just can’t find it in himself to say no.

“mm, fine. i’ll stay.”

it’s enough to please jaemin, and this is probably the comfiest surface jeno has lain on in a year.

maybe they’ll never meet again, but he’ll stay.

“hey, jaemin?”

jaemin hums.

“if it isn’t too much to ask, do you think i could use your shower?”

**Author's Note:**

> more nomin coming soon probably??  
> thank u for tuning into this week's episode of lee loses his fucking mind over cute boys !
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/xingowo) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/xingowo) ♡


End file.
